Wounded Brother
by Fire-Bound
Summary: Disclaimer: All characters belong to Capcom (story takes place after Devil May Cry 4) The aged devil hunter never really was one for visitors, especially ones at 3 a.m. But here he was with a bloody pulp of a man at his doorstep who somewhat resembled his brother. -I update every Saturday/Sunday-
1. Chapter 1

The aged devil hunter never really was one for visitors, especially ones at 3 a.m. Yet here he was with a bloody pulp of a man at his doorstep,

First, Dante realised the man had the outline of his brother, but his face was so contorted he had to stare for a minute or two; the uncontrolled panic in his eyes was new. Second, he had what appeared to be a six inch blade sticking out of his right shoulder.

Vergil barged in and nearly knocked over the coffee table and landed with a crash. He lay sprawled out on the leather couch, blood dripping from his mouth and limbs with a frequency that couldn't be healthy. The demon's tailored garments was ripped to shreds, exposing gashes and bruises across pale skin. How could he be in such a mess? The great son of Sparda?

Vergil did not speak, his intense blue eyes seemed clouded and miserable; Yamato was gone. The blade probably somewhere unreachable at this point. The two of them said nothing until Dante broke the silence, he wasn't going to let his brother bleed out on his couch. "Vergil. What the hell happened?" He walked from the door to the couch and tried to sit his brother up, getting a weak slap in return with a guttural moan that sounded something like his voice.

"Can you talk?"

The older brother nodded, but winced as he opened his mouth; most likely a broken jaw.

"Listen I'm not letting you bleed out here, so lets get you to the bathroom and clean you up." Vergil took what was left of his energy to stand up and make his way to the bathroom, swatting away any attempt of assistance.

Dante had never been fond of Vergil but his desperate attempt to reach his home was a scream for help that he needed to answer. No one had ever beaten him up this bad, even as kids.

The wounded brother sat up slowly and coughed deeply, blood splattering on the white carpet. "Aw c'mon now I just just had that cleaned Vergil!" Vergil glared at Dante, letting out a frail snarl. He stood awkwardly, holding a hand to his ribs and another to the wall to steady himself. Shuffling to the bathroom Vergil seemed about to collapse and Dante rushed to hold him up; he did not protest.

Vergil looked into the mirror and attempted a face which looked like shock. Still holding onto Dante, he reached a hand to his cheek and flinched in pain. Dante's concern was growing; Vergil had been bleeding, a lot, and now he looked even paler. "I'm going to help you remove your clothes ok?" Vergil protested and didn't step back. "I need to know how bad your injuries are so I know if you'll die here or in a hospital. Not that they can do much for our kind…" He trailed off, using a gentleness he rarely used to pull down his trousers only to find a collection of contusions and lacerations covering his legs, not to mention the numerous scars left from long ago. Suddenly a dim green glow filled the room, symbols gradually appeared upon his legs and pulsed, swirling and crossed between the injuries. The surges of light sent waves a pain up onto his brother, causing the weakened body to convulse. This was worse than he expected. Vergil groaned trying to remove his shirt, oblivious to the blade. Dante to a hold of his wrist firmly, careful not to touch the newfound symbols. "Vergil, listen. Don't panic, but there's a blade sticking out of your shoulder." Vergil nearly jumped and turned towards the mirror letting out a low whine before sitting down on the toilet, covering his face with his hands. "I'm going to get the medic supplies alright?" Vergil nodded and glared at Dante, with what appeared to be thankfulness flashing momentarily in his frosty eyes.

Dante trifled through the massive amounts of medical equipment for when he got into unfortunate circumstances. He pulled out the bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and his enhanced Arnica and Calendula flowers, which helped for pain. Dante rushed back in and was relieved Vergil was still able to stand; even with Sparda's blood, not every wound could be healed. "Get in the tub, this is going to make a hell of a mess" Vergil grimaced and slipped into the tub, shivering from the ice cold porcelain. His milky skin mixing into the color of the sharp contrast of crimson and white focused his eyes on his brothers battered body. His lean, toned build contracted and relaxed with the pulsing of the symbols. For a second, Dante thought his brother wasn't going to survive this.

With a flick of his wrist Dante poured the peroxide onto Vergil's legs. He seethed, driving his fist onto the rim of the bathtub making a jagged crack. Dante was surprised he still had that much fight. Dante quickly patted his legs dry with beige body towel and quickly threw it to the side, it was only making the bleeding worse. He placed the Arnica flowers onto the wounds, followed immediately by the bandages. Vergil stared at Dante, his hands clenched.

After his legs were dressed it was time for the blade. Dante let Vergil take a swig of whiskey before promptly yanking the weapon out. In return Vergil let out a hoarse scream, followed by a sickening crack from his jaw; blood was everywhere. Dante took off his red t-shirt and placed it onto the wound, nauseated by the sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Vergil kept fixated on Dante's movements; tunnel vision slowly taking over his sight. It was a miracle in itself that he was able to fend off the formless horrors that put him in such a state as well as stay conscious. However, the combination of adrenaline crash and being under the watchful eye of his brother, Vergil soon blacked out.

By the time Vergil came to, he was laid rigid on the leather couch under a scratchy wool blanket.

The sun shone through the west side of Dante's building, illuminating the dried blood covering the couch and himself. _What day is it?_ The wounded devil tried to sit up but was promptly thrown back by waves of a pain comparable to acid traveling through his veins. He grimaced, tossing his head to the side and tightly closing his eyes. Vergil thought back to the night before, barely able to comprehend what had attacked him with such strength and ferocity. Was it his arrogance that set them off? Or the scent of Sparda's blood?

This being, whatever it was, did more than just inflict wounds. He gingerly lifted the blanket and was revolted at what he saw; covering his body was not only bandages, but pulsing, infected symbols that seemed to shift every time he took a breath. He took in a sharp breath, a surge of panic causing him to curse under his breath. His mind traveled to Dante- where was he? Did his younger brother know what type of curse this was?

"Yamato" He breathed, reaching out his hand for the katana to come. Although he felt it's presence- somewhere- it was unable to travel to him. Running a hand through his frosty hair, he tried to sit up again, biting through the pain and managing to balance with great difficulty on the edge of the couch. His head was spinning, and rose slowly.

He needed to find Dante.


	3. Chapter 3

The weather just outside of Naples was uncharacteristically bitter and damp, similar to a blanket of depression lay heavily on the parched land. High-rise apartments of every color and size were desaturated to a steely gray as a thick fog clashed with the lingering warmth from this afternoon's sun. Dante could practically smell the rain.

Figures of people and pets dissolved in and out of existence and far off techno-pop resonated for miles and into the ears of Dante. It's been at least 24 hours since the hunter has last laid down, let alone slept. A headache was beginning to form deep in his temples but he shrugged it off, a new found energy formed deep in his conscious. Although Vergil and himself were never the perfect pair- hell, they went out of their way to fight- whatever did that to his older brother was a being that should not exist; he was determined to track this thing down and destroy it. He prayed to his father that Vergil was strong enough to wake up and take care of his strange wounds for the time being; he planned to be back soon enough.

With each step Dante quickened his pace, a steady drizzle rapidly turning into a downpour. He promptly strode to the rundown bar on edge of town and dove in.

"Morning…" The bartender uttered as he scratched his three days worth of stubble. The bar was a distasteful shade of brown, which must have once been beautiful cherry before the decades of vomit and bodies squirming around in the murky atmosphere.

"Morning already?" Dante spoke, taking a seat farthest away from the door and hunched over the stale peanut bowl.

"2:37 to be exact" The man spoke clearly before turning to tend to the quality whiskey on the back wall. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Dante squeezed the bridge of his nose, momentarily closing his eyes. He didn't want to engage in small talk; this man, or rather, _being_ must have heard from the grapevine that the Son of Sparda was roaming the streets; hunting for something.

"No, but I've heard that there was someone around here who knew about some curses?"

In a flash the 'man' loomed over him, a smile carved from ear to ear across his grubby flesh.

"Now who told you that?" He practically hissed, inching ever closer to Dante's face.

The white-haired man looked up and smirked, looking directly into the deformed face of the 'man'.

"Various sources from around the city, you know."

"And why would I tell you?"

He spoke without emotion "Well, you can tell me what you know without injury, or I might have to plaster your demon-ass across these walls."

The man only giggled before rapidly transforming into a grotesque form- somewhere between a human and a decaying crow. It's face grew long, it's skin melting and ripping to form into this new shape. Greasy hair took form of jet-black feathers while his neck stretched to unnatural heights.

It arched it's neck and opened it's beak a fraction of an inch, emitting a low frequency that sent shards of glass exploding throughout the bar. The crow-demon placed it's elongated arms and fingers on the table before lunging at Dante, it's talons splayed and beak agape.

Dante jumped back, barely dodging the surprise attack, but took it in stride. He reached behind his back with lightening speed and brought down Rebellion directly on the demon's back, sending it sprawling.

The demon seethed, writhing awkwardly on the floor. Black, spoiled blood oozed onto the floorboards as it tried to rise. It's spindly legs wavered and snarled before collapsing.

"Now." Dante sheathed his sword and grabbed a handful of feathers- "Tell me what you know."


	4. Chapter 4

Something wasn't right.

An entire day has past since Vergil has last seen his brother.

He may be out solving another important case; it wouldn't be the first time he's forgotten about him. But could Vergil take care of himself? The bandages were starting to seep through, and even more concerning, there has been a constant _whisper _resonating within the flat.

At first Vergil thought it was only his imagination, paired with the persistent pulse of his heart- Yet each time he lingered on the brink of sleep, the voices would become more pronounced, even calling out his name on some occasions.

His instinct urged him to flee, yet there was nothing in sight to justify tearing his healing injuries. He cursed his body; if these wounds were of a normal type, he would be completely healed by now, however this weakened state has slowed the process considerably. Fortunately, the broken bones in his jaw and ribs were semi-repaired- he could now sit up and limp around comfortably.

He would have waited for his brother to come back if not for the sudden crescendo of whispers to blood-curdling screams. It began at 3:00 a.m.

Vergil sat uncomfortably on the sofa, reading a book on defense when the whispers began as softly as ever. This time however, a chill traveled up his spine as if ice cubes suddenly wrapped around his bare flesh. With the woolen blanket wrapped loosely around his waist, Vergil gradually made his way into the laundry room for an extra blanket when he stopped dead.

Outside of one of the 19th century windows were six massive pigeons, shoving eachother for space on the thin windowsill. At first Vergil was startled, frosty eyes widening in surprise as he realized that these voices came from the pigeons themselves.

The wounded man stepped closer to the window, his usual cool and collect demeanor slipped into caution. In all his years of life he had never witnessed something this bizarre. The birds stared at each other with beady eyes while they talked amongst themselves.

'_The Son of Sparda is here.'_

'_Has he forgotten his contract?'_

'_I smell his rotting flesh.'_

'_Vergil is here.'_

'_Remember the contract'_

'_Do not forget'_

The pigeons began to fly away one by one as Vergil threw away what was left of himself and began to panic. "_What the hell were they talking about?!' _

Immediately the birds dove back, ramming their bodies into the window with an unnatural force. Their voices became deafening.

'_VERGIL'_

'VERGIL'

'THE CONTRACT'

Vergil ran out of the laundry room to the kitchen while the birds followed him to every window, their voices seeming to increase tenfold. He dug his fingers into the side of the sink and felt nauseous, the symbols wrapped around his legs and torso reacting to the chants; they seemed to tighten and grow in pain.

Suddenly everything was silent.

The sound of broken glass filled the flat.

Fighting the urge to vomit he took the nearest kitchen knife and prepared himself for the onslaught of talons and beaks.

What kind of feeble creature has he been reduced to?

What has he done to deserve this?


	5. Chapter 5

The demon squealed as Dante yanked the body to it's feet and pushed it to the direction of the bar's back room.

"Follow me you fucking bastard." it gasped; clutching the wall for support.

The younger brother watched the demon's every move; he kept one hand on Rebellion's handle.

The bird slowly reached around his neck and produced a petite key from a leather string, keeping an eye on The Son of Sparda just the same.

It thrust the key into a concealed lock hidden behind a cliche picture of a naked woman lounging on a felted sofa and turned it; a satisfying _click _resonated through the wall. The crow pried the door open with it's talons and wobbled inside.

Unlike the rest of the bar, this secret room was immaculate and spacious. A dark amber wood accompanied a high ceiling and a large collection of books as well as preserved herbs and animals.

"I didn't know demons could have hobbies." Dante teased as he strode confidently into the center of the room.

"Well.' the bird replied as it collapsed awkwardly into an overstuffed sofa. "Without any higher-ups to order your every move, eternal life is a bit of a bore. Especially-"

Dante held up a hand to silence the demon before striding towards it with determination in his eyes.

"I need information." he barked, taking one of the books off the shelf and shaking it for emphasis.

It grinned, sitting up. "What for?"

"Obscure curses."

"What kind?"

"I don't know…"

"Who does it infect?"

"I won't tell you."

"That's fine." A mischievous spark flashed in the demon's eye.

Dante tilted his head.

"I already have an idea of who it is." It intertwined its talons together. "Your brother, correct?" It practically giggled with delight.

Rebellion was instantly at the demons throat, the sword's point dug deep into its flesh.

"How the hell do you know?" he growled.

The crow grasped the blade gingerly as it tried to push it away.

"A little birdie has been squawking through the underworld as of late." It snickered. "Everyone knows what has befallen your dear brother… except you, of course."

A blazing rage flooded Dante's mind and body, urging him to finish the job; how could everyone know about this brother but him?

"Don't shoot the messenger!" It squawked, swallowing hard; Dante lowered his sword a fraction of an inch.

"Besides, he's a lost cause-" the bird lowered its voice. "the only one that can save his soul is himself."

"What do you mean 'save his soul'?" Dante repeated, bitter fear forming a tight ball in the back of his throat.

"Your brother did a very senseless thing; he traded his soul and body for power. This is all I know."

"You're lying, demon!" Dante barked. "Vergil would never do anything that stupid!"

The demon shrugged it's shoulders in a nonchalant way. "This is what I heard, you can take a demon's word for it or continue to search the rest of the world for the truth you want to hear."

Dante snarled, letting his rage consume him for a moment too long. His hands found their way to the crow-demon's throat, the smell of clotted blood and greasy feathers mixed with the sound of cracking bone. The demon let out one last chitter before going limp, it's limbs clutching Dante's toned arms in a last-ditch attempt to flee.

The moment he broke from his blind fury he bellowed in rage and frustration, tearing away from the corpse fervently.

How could his own brother stagger to his house, pleading for help when they both promised to never make deals with those filthy demons so many years ago.

Dante took one last look at the study and plucked the key from the demon's person.

The thought of sleep vanished from his mind; he will not rest until he's heard the truth.


	6. Chapter 6

All six birds charged him swiftly; their minds and bodies in deadly sync.

Just as they were about to connect, Vergil slashed straight across the closest pigeons chest. An explosion of thick, black smoke erupted from the cavity; its body instantaneously disintegrated onto the floor.

However the other pigeons soon attacked Vergil from every angle, their beaks and talons puncturing his healing skin. Whichever way he turned to cut, they would weave away, only to come back with twice the ferocity. This wasn't working; he needed to run before these creatures destroyed what was left of his body.

The wounded man covered his face and bolted across the flat, the birds still tearing into his skin. With a couple extra weaves of the blade and luck, he was able to fend off these unnatural things just long enough to slam the door to Dante's bedroom.

Vergil gasped for breath as he stepped away slowly from the door. He could hear them on the other side- slamming their bodies relentlessly against the solid wood. They soon began to chant those familiar words yet again.

"_Vergil"_

"_Contract"_

"_Vergil"_

"_Remember your promise"_

He was so battered and disoriented that despite himself, he retched onto the floor. His entire body shook with the effort and found that afterwards he couldn't stand- all his strength had disappeared.

There was nothing more that he could do beside crawl stiffly into the bathroom where it all began and shut the door- adding another barrier of protection against these _things. _

He leaned up against the bathtub and heaved a feeble sob.

"Father." Vergil uttered, defeat clear in his voice "help me."

"_There is no one here to help you." A _gentle female voice cooed from the other side of the door. Vergil snarled, taking the knife in his hand once again.

"_I hope this form will be more appealing to you for I must re-tell you something."_

"Get the hell away." Vergil barked "I know what you are."

The door clicked open and an alluring woman strode confidently into the enclosed space. This woman was beautiful, Vergil thought; athletic physique and long, voluptuous hair- but before he could attack, she crouched to Vergil's eye level and took his chin in her slender hand. The female radiated an exotic energy that lessened the pain and put him at ease despite his initial fear; a yearn for this strange woman emerged at once.

"_Remember me now, Vergil?" _she sang, trailing her long fingers down his damaged torso.

"Pisinoe" Vergil recalled with unsure enthusiasm, his hand still on the blade.

The siren chuckled sweetly, running a hand threw his hair. "_Do you remember my contract, my love?" _The smell of honey and lust filled his nostrils.

"Of course." Veril affirmed as he pressed his body against hers.

"_You won't try and fight us again will you?"_

"I do not wish to die."

"_Good. You will have your beloved power soon enough." _

The siren practically purred. "_I will meet you in this form at the crossroads in a weeks time."_

Vergil moaned, pulling their bodies together. "Don't leave."

"_I have other contracts to confirm my love. _

The siren straddled him and kissed him on the neck before promptly evaporating in fragments. A rush of warmth filled him before agony gripped his body once again.

In delayed aggression he slashed the knife close to his chest.  
>"I remember it all!" he raged, jamming the knife into the marble floor beneath him.<p>

A few moments past "And I've underestimated you." He uttered to the open air.

What seemed like hours past before the faint sound of footsteps resounded in his ears.


	7. Chapter 7

Dante found his brother huddled naked against the bathtub, his body in worse condition than when he left. Vergil seemed to be on the brink of unconsciousness; his breathing was labored and shallow, his body essentially limp.

Although Dante's rage had been reduced to a fraction of what it once was, he heaved his brother to his feet and shook him violently.

"How dare you!" Dante exploded "How could you make a deal like that Vergil!"

The older brother shook awake but was in a haze; grasping his brother firmly on the shoulder, trying to keep him in focus.

"I've- I've made a mistake." Veril spat, his cold demeanor emerging once again.

"You bet you have. Now once I fix you up… again… we'll hunt this bitch down and get your soul back."

"That's not possible." he sat down on the rim of the tub, shaking slightly. "I've made a contract with the demon, to my knowledge there is so no way out."

Dante shrugged off his coat and handed it nonchalantly to his brother.

"I have to meet her in a weeks time or her servants will finish me off. I barely escaped last time."

He drapped the cloak over his shoulders and traced his fingers on the winding symbols across his legs.

"I remember now. These marks were given to me because if I try to run away again and somehow escape her hordes of demons, these things will end me."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Dante heaved a sigh. "Why did you do this to yourself?"

Vergil clenched the side of the tub. "You know exactly why."

"...your precious power complex?" he mocked. "You know you're stronger than most of the world, even the underworld. And yet you choose to give up what's left of your humanity?"

"I was forced into-"

"Bullshit."

"You haven't met Pisinoe." Vergil shot back.

"The siren?" He sat down next to his brother.

"Yes." Vergil stated matter of factly.

"I've definitely heard of her- a siren that charms her victims into doing whatever she wants them to, right?"

Vergil nodded, embarrassed at the thought of how malleable he had been in her hands.

"I don't remember much about our first encounter, but I'm sure that is when it happened."

Dante was at a lost for words- so instead of trying to argue he nursed his brother's injuries with an air of apprehension. Vergil remained deadly still and would not meet his brother's gaze. His mind clearly wandered farther and farther away from the present.

The sun was just beginning to rise as Dante finished up and guided his brother into bed.

Under the sheets Vergil stared blankly at the stark white ceiling as his brother pulled up a chair at the foot of the bed and sat; Rebellion rested heavily on his lap. Their years apart and battles have lessened their bond, yet Dante felt it his duty to protect his brother at all costs.

As his brother drifted off into a fitful sleep Dante couldn't help but wonder how powerful Pisinoe and her servants really are.

If they could do something like that to his brother, couldn't they have done the same to him? Dante knew that Vergil's main goal in his life was to become the most powerful being in this world, yet he never knew the sacrifice he would make to get it; 'forced' or not.

With that thought, exhaustion overtook him as well; the sound of Vergil's soft breathing lulling him into a light sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Vergil's dreams that early morning consisted of a haunting yet alluring image of Pisinoe wrapping her body around his, her supple body fitting perfectly into his own. Yet, even in this dream a haunting vibe hung in the air, and soon enough her stunning body changed into those birds. The sensation of ripping and stinging melted into a toxic mix of pain and pleasure.

Vergil awoke with a start, rays of sun rebounded harshly off the bleached walls and onto his raw face. He laid his groggy eyes on Dante, still dozing awkwardly in his chair; he must have been up all night watching over him.

"Dante." Vergil called hoarsely as he sat up in the silken sheets. "Dante. Wake up."

Dante fluttered awake. Slowly he stretched his upper body and dropped Rebellion with a metallic thud.

"Good morning, sunshine." Dante joked as he ran his hands down his face. "Did you sleep okay?"

A small smirk played on Vergil's lips. "I suppose."

"Did anything happen during the night?" Vergil inquired, swinging his stiff legs off the side of the bed.

Dante stood up and wandered over to the 19th century windows."Nothing to be concerned- wait what are you doing?"

Vergil was on his feet in a moment and stood next to Dante.

"If I am going to fight this beast-"

"_We _are going to fight."

For a moment their identical gazes met, the morning sunshine reflected crisply off each man's cobalt eyes.

"Why do you wish to help me?"

Dante broke eye contact.

"Listen, we've had our differences, hell- we've both sought out to kill each other at one point of another-"

This brought a grin to his brother's face.

"But what you've agreed to, consenting or not, is dangerous territory and I will not let such a low demon take my brother's soul."

Both men stood in silence for what seemed like hours, pretending to be only concerned with the manic morning traffic outside.

"We need to prepare." Vergil admitted, his expression somber.

"What do you suppose we do?" Dante replied as he crossed his arms.

"First we need to find information on Pisinoe and what, or if she has any weaknesses."

Dante pouted. "I've already searched the entire city for that info Vergil, everyone says there's no way…"

"I know a few beings that specialize in this sort of thing." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "But we have to travel to Rome."

Dante beamed. "I've always wanted to go there, maybe we can do a little sightseeing eh?"

"We're only there on business you child."

"Fine. Maybe after then?"

"No."


	9. Chapter 9

Later that afternoon both brothers reached the edge of Rome. Not the modern Rome with hoards of tourists and police, but the Rome past generations knew.

In preparation for their journey, Dante gave Vergil Beowulf for protection as well as one of his older trenchcoats he no longer uses; without his brother's hair slicked back, Vergil would look exactly like him.

Dante secured his motorcycle onto a windswept cedar and pocketed the key.

"So, where to now?" Dante yawned, setting Rebellion onto his back and resting his hands on his hips.

"Follow me." Vergil uttered as he strode with purpose to a rather large ruin that lay a couple hundred yards away.

The ruin was an impressive sight; it's jagged, beige stone jutted out of the overgrown weeds and shrubs covering the dry land. The setting sun gave the rock a warm glow that made it seem inviting, but judging by Vergil's body language this place was more dangerous than the screaming city a few miles away.

Luckily only a few tourists were nonchalantly strolling through the site, the season for sightseeing was many months away so their entrance into the unstable structure was smooth and unnoticed.

Inside was surprisingly cool and quiet; the recent storm staining the inside walls a saturated brown. Duckweed thrived in the clear pools of water from the recent storm and the occasional croak from a frog bounced off the walls.

Dante crouched close to the body of water and immediately the hairs on his arms and neck prickled.

"Something isn't right." Dante declared, standing up and returning to his brother.

"Of course not." said Vergil sharply. "And keep your voice low, we don't want to anger them."

Dante was about to question who, when a young boy no more than 13 years old rose sleeky out of the largest pool. The gray skinned boy had large brown eyes and black, unkempt hair that lay plastered to his skull, and was dressed in all tie-dye. His extremely long arms and fingers outstretched to the brothers and an innocent smile showed off large fangs.

Dante was taken aback, but Vergil kept his ground.

"Good afternoon, Meris." Vergil intoned in an unusually cheerful manner; a fake smile slapped onto his face.

"Is it?" Meris inquired, tilting his head slightly. "Time really flies when you're having fun, huh?"

"It always does."

Dante remained passive; Vergil knows what he's doing.

"So what have you are up to?"

"Watching the frogs grow, taking care of my plants…" The boy droned on about his day, a smile frozen in place all the while. Vergil listened intently, nodding his head and asking questions one would ask a ten year old; Dante allowed himself to space out on the water. Suddenly their conversation abruptly stopped; Vergil gritted his teeth.

"Do you not know the extent of my knowledge, Son of Sparda!?" The boy was clearly upset, tears began welling up in his eyes and his shoulders shook. Vergil visibly tensed and took a step back, holding up his hands in a submissive way; he was at a lost for words.

"Listen kid-" Dante chimed in "We've just met you, and from what I've heard you have a lot to learn."

Vergil shot him a glare so intense that Dance jerked back. "What?"

Without a sound the boy was gone just as quickly as he came. However, instead of a placid pool the water came to a rolling boil.

"Dante. Run." Vergil barked summoning Beowulf and getting into a defensive stance.

"No, we can take h-"

The water was too fast to react to; it's grip stronger than anything Dante had ever felt.

The air from his lungs shot out of his diaphragm so fast that he began to panic.

He was unable to move as the water pulled him deeper into the pool and just as quickly as it swallowed him, it spit him out.

Dante fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The water left him in an abstract dimension parallel to the real world's ruins, yet somehow restored.

The walls were solid and sound; complete water systems covered the large walls and led to an immense pool decorated with gold and emeralds.

As he regained his composure and stood up, the boy came into his focus. Meris stood on top of the water and beside him was a toad the size of a rottweiler. It's beady eyes locked onto Dante and it, of all things, spit. Dante rolled out of the way and looked on with disgust as the floor once beneath him melted away.

"That's some bad heartburn you got there froggy." He mocked, taking Rebellion off his back and pointing it at both of them.

"You will pay for insulting my intelligence." Meris snarled, his innocent demeanor melting away like the floor.

"Come at me then!" Dante shot back.

Meris snapped his fingers and the toad leapt forward with the momentum of a freight train, opening it's mouth to show massive canines.

Dante cursed, ready for what was to come.


	10. Chapter 10

It took a moment for Vergil to realize what had just happened and once it hit, he slammed his fist into the nearest wall with Beowulf. Cursing, he faced the still boiling water and stared into the depths.

"Godammit Dante, I had it under control."

The only demon he knew would know the answer not only played stupid, but now his hard-earned relationship with Meris was ruined all because of his idiot brother.

Vergil could only wait for something to form out of the water; his power useless in the face of the unknown.

Dante took the full force of its charge. His body propelled backwards and slammed into a marble pillar that threatened to crack. He rose slowly and with great caution; blood trickled down from a large abrasion on his neck. Dante's grip slackened on Rebellion and at that moment he realized it was either him or Meris who was going to die. The boy called the beast back and before another demand could be spoken, the demon hunter sprinted to the other side of the pool and ducked behind a pillar.

"Come out and face us!" Meris shrieked, his child-like voice ringing in Dante's ears.

Dante suddenly sprinted out from behind the pillar and hooked Meris in the gut, sending him sprawling to the ground. Curiously, the frog remained passive, it's beady eyes locked on the two, but it's body remained perfectly still. The boy collapsed onto the floor, tightly clutching his tie-dye shirt. Before he could take another breath Dante grabbed his mouth and brought the boy to his feet.

"Try anything with your little pet again and I'll make sure it will be the last thing you do."

Meris clawed at Dante's muscular forearm fervently before whimpering.

"Please, just let me go- I didn't mean to hurt you…"

Dante chuckled. "Yeah sure 'kid'." Without looking he drove Rebellion straight into the frog head. An eruption of acid and liquid mixed with Meris's muted screams.

"Get me out of this place and I'll think about letting you live."

Meris nodded his head enthusiastically, the same suffocating feeling enveloped Dante once again and milliseconds later he was brought back to the ruins.

Dante coughed harshly and let Meris drop to the floor.

"Vergil!' Dante called, concern flooded his mind.

After a few moments Vergil stalked out from the entrance, his face a mix of rage and thankfulness.

"I did not think you would come back." He declared, running a hand through his hair.

"I got the little brat to bring me back." The younger brother gazed down at the slumped body.

"Now will you be a good little boy and tell my brother here what he wants to know?"

Meris gasped for breath and nodded.

"Pisinoe, she only has one weakness." he explained "you must resist her advances and stab her in the heart." He stood to his full height. "And kill those stupid birds too, they are an extension of her."

"Well that can't be too hard could it?"

Vergil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, you don't know her." Vergil uttered.

"Is there anything else you know?" Vergil questioned; his body looked drained, like he needed to rest.

"No, Pisinoe is a siren clouded in mystery and time." Meris stepped back into his pool. "Vergil."

Vergil stared at the boy with clouded eyes.

"Good luck."

Vergil nodded and they both watched the boy silently slide into the water. Suddenly, as if someone turned off the lights, the room was pitch black and the brothers quickly ran out to the courtyard.

Dante glanced at his brother who now kneel on the rough gravel surrounding the building.

"I have to prepare. Only I." Vergil announced to Dante and a soft breeze of Mediterranean air.

Dante looked up at the Little Dipper and rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. For the first time, he was unable to find the words to help his brother.


	11. Update

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, college has been an absolute chore and there's not much time to write no my own terms. I will get back to the story eventually.


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